Not Sam
by Lilithakaducky
Summary: When Mary comes back to life she brings with her a young man, claiming to be the real Sam, switched at 6 months old. What will be more important to Dean, brother of blood or experience. For Mary it is no contest. Hurt/angsty Sam, guilty/awesome Dean
1. Chapter 1

No brother of mine

_**Authors note to the readers of my other fics who came here by alert, hoping for a long due update on ‚Of killers and traitors' or « 'Price of trust'.**_

_Okay, for all those waiting for me to continue my Snape and Saint Seiya Fics, don't __get mad about me writing in another fandom. After partially recovering from cyperstalking, some fruitless tries to get back to my fics, I felt that I had to ease into writing by doing something completely new. Supernatural caught my eye a couple years ago__ and I've become at least as big a fan as I became for Saint Seiya and Snape (And I'm purposely not saying Harry Potter here, bleh) . But I will get back to my other fics eventually. What I once wrote, that I'll always finish my fics, still holds true, eve__n if that may take years. I do apologize for the wait, though._

_**Authors note to all the dedicated Supernatural fans and don't most of us fall into this category ?**_

_If you're reading this fic and don't like it, you can send my constructive critism, no proble__m, but please don't flame or cyberstalk. Been there, done that and didn't like it at all. _

_Even though I'm more leaning towards Sam, I still love Dean to pieces. If I like Sam, I have to like Dean, otherwise I don't get Sam at all. Still, in canon, Sam alw__ays was wrong for the right reasons and we got rubbed our noses into the wrong part again and again. Dean has mostly been written righteously right and barely ever had to really atone for HIS mistakes. He's been too harsh with Sam, not even trying to under__stand and he's been the same way with Cass now. (I often understood their POV better) I understand that he was betrayed and since he's human it would be arrogant to believe that he wouldn't lash out. Still, he should have learned with Sam, (and Sam should __have been at least a bit insistent to tell him that, not standing by, taking Dean's word and reactions for granted. (God I miss old Sam). Anyhow. I wanted to write something where the coin is turned, while Dean isn't evil or nasty or even wrong, more than__ Sam has been in canon._

_Disclaimer: Not mine, just abus...cough, playing...  
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**Many thanks to UThnkUrFunny IThnkImAdorable for her wonderful betaing job. All remaining mistakes are my own.**

**Chapter 1:**

Burning alive had been painful, but not as agonizing as Mary would have imagined. Maybe it had been theshock or the fact that she'd already been in pain from the deep slash across her abdomen**,** but when it happened it'd been so fast that the numbness of death had caught up with her almost as soon as the inferno had. Still, the horror of the night, the fear for her family and the anger that her hunting past had caught up to her were still lingering inside her like a constructing weight around her heart when she took one desperate, starving breath. A breath, that brought Mary Winchester back to life.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

John remembered hell. An eternity of suffering and torture was hard to forget, after all. But he remembered the end of that suffering too. Somehow he had escaped, had returned to the mortal world and had had the chance to help his boys for the last time. After that, nothing. Until he woke up, laying eaglespreadon his back at the exact cemetery where he had escaped hell.

Somehow he was alive again. How, he had no idea. He sat up and raised his head. The sky was overcast with dark clouds, promising rain, the air hot and humid. John looked down at his own body. His clothes were the same he wore when he made the deal but the aches and pains still residue from the accident were gone. He felt fine. Better than fine, actually. With a huff of air he got to his feet. The joints that had started to protest after years of abuse under the driven hunting lifestyle moved smooth and painless. John smirked at that but the smirk made place to a confused frown in a second. What happened? How had he come back? And when? He had spend a long time in hell but the demons had told him that time there went different from upstairs. He turned around once, taking in his surroundings. His sons weren't here**. N**either were any recent traces of a turmoil, which his sons would undoubtedly have left after their encounter with Azazel. He moved to the headstone, against which Sammy had been laying but the weeds there were undisturbed.

Worry started to gnaw at his insides, while he crouched down and rested his hand unconsciously against the grassy spot. Where were his boys? Were they okay? There had been so much going on prior to his death. Things that concerned his sons. He had known about the demon's plan for Sammy and his youngest'sstubbornness had made him fear and hope for the kid's chances to escape his destiny.

And then there was Dean. He knew he shouldn't have burdenedhimwith his last message but he had been desperate. The bond between his boys - rare and precious **-** would make Dean blind to any danger coming from Sam, should Sam ever fall victim to Azazel's influence. But Azazel was dead. Dean had killed him. Which meant Sam was free of his destiny**...** right? But Azazel had told him that there were more parties interested in Sammy. Bigger fish. Which was the reason why John told Dean what he did.

He sighed and got back to his feet. Searching his pockets he came up empty. Well. He just had to find a phone to call Dean or Sam and make sure that they both be okay.

With one final look around he started to walk out of the cemetery in search for civilization.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Mary was still under shock of being back alive so she didn't realize she wasn't alone, until a heavy hand settled on her shoulder. With a gasp she sat bolt upright, flinching back from the hand, looking up at a young man crouching at her side.

The stranger lifted his hands in a non-threatening way. **"**Easy. I don't wanna hurt you. You okay**?"**

Mary eyed the soft spoken stranger suspiciously. She couldn't place it but he did seem kind of familiar, even though she couldn't recall where she'd seen him before. He was no kid but still young. Mary placed him in his late twenties. His light brown, softly curling hair framed a handsome face. Light freckles were splattered across the back of his nose and his eyes shone in a gentle hazel. Mary's wariness didn't ease when she recognized the sheen of repressed tears in his eyes.

**"**Who are you?", she snapped with more aggression than intended.

The young man swallowed audibly and lowered his eyes: "My name is Lucas. But you know me under the name of Sam." He met her eyes again, determination shininginhisown. "I'm your son."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Thank to all who reviewed and alerted this fic and I will return the favor and review your fics too but it might take a bit.

_Previously_:

_**"**__Who are you?"__ she snapped with more aggression than intended._

_The young man swallowed audibly and lowered his eyes: "My name is Lucas. But you know me under the name of Sam." He met her eyes again, determination __shining__in__his__own__. __"I'm your son."_

Chapter 2

Life was finally good for Dean Winchester. The apocalypse was averted, Earth was safe, if not from all evil and danger, then at least from total destruction. But most of all, he had his brother back. All of him. A beer in hand, he half sat on one the edge of Bobby's desk, watching his brother as he immersed himself in one of the thickest, most obscure looking books in Bobby's possession. Sam was completely absorbed in his task, one hand tracing the lines he was reading, with the other making notes on a legal pad in a geekish way only true Sam could. Brow furrowed, biting his bottom lip in concentration and nearly oblivious to his surroundings.

The smile that had unconsciously stolen on Dean's face vanished when he heard Bobby clatter with dishes he had suddenly remembered to wash, forgoing his initial plans of research, when he had seen Sam in his study. Things between those two were still tense. Sam tried his best but it seemed that Bobby just couldn't let go if his suspicions toward the younger hunter. It hurt Dean to know that Sam didn't have Bobby's unconditional support. Sam had little friends left as it was.

With their dangerous job, the need to replace cellphones arose regularly. Cellphones weren't built to survive being tossed against shelves and trees. And with each new cellphone Sam got, less and less contacts were transferred. More and more friends were left behind, either estranged or dead. Friends from schools in his youth, Stanford, Jess's family, his family, hunter friends… All what was left were hunting contacts, people he deemed might come in handy in time of need, Cas, Bobby and himself. Dean didn't have all that many more to be honest, but there still was the occasional one night stand turned into a distant friendship or some contacts from his life in suburban. And of course Lisa and Ben who, even if he wasn't part of their family anymore, would always have an open ear for him in time of need. Besides, if he ever was at odds with Sam, he could count on Cas to be more attentive to him than Sam. He had said that he had a stronger bond to him…. Just like Bobby, under the influence of Veritas had admitted… He shook his head, as if to chase those memories away. He wouldn't think about that. Pretend that Bobby had only meant Robo Sam, not the Sam he had known since he was a little boy. Otherwise that would mean that Sam only really had his brother in his corner, if it ever became an issue. This Sam thankfully knew nothing about that case with Veritas or even that Cas answered him instantly, when he choose to ignore Sam for months, but Dean knew that his brother was upset about all that happening. The clattering noise of a glass hitting the floor and Bobby's loud cursing ripped him from his thoughts. He looked up from the bottle in his hand he had been studying and met Sam's gaze, who had not been as immersed to not hear the commotion, it seemed. Sam gave him a lopsided smile and turned his attention back to the book, searching for the line he had been reading. Dean felt a pang of regret when he saw the devastation behind Sam's smile. No, his brother was more perspective than he let on but in true Sammy form, he never complained about how broken inside he really was. Dean didn't know what to do. He so would like to help Sam. Even evoke a chick flick moment if that would do the trick, but he feared what sleeping dogs he would wake with a heart to heart with Sam. There was so much the kid didn't know, which would hurt him even more, and that was without even considering the fragile wall something like this could bring down.

Sam huffed a deep breath and forced his concentration back to the book, his hands shaking very minutely. Dean never talked about his feelings if he could avoid it, but he still felt them and at this moment he felt all the love and protectiveness towards his baby brother he could muster. He'd make sure that someone cared about Sam enough to put him first. He might have forgotten it for a while during the whole apocalypse mess but he was back at his job. Protecting Sammy, no matter how grown up and independent his brother ever became. It was who Dean was and he would move hell and heaven to heal his baby brother again.

SPNSPNSPN

For a moment, nobody said a word. The young man kept on studying her, half guilty, half sheepish, while Mary tried to process the bombshell he had just dumped on her.

"No," she finally breathed before anger replaced the shocked numbness like a fiery hot tsunami. "No!" she repeated and jumped to her feet. "You are not him. You're lying. Sammy is only a baby."

The man stayed where he was but lowered his eyes for a couple of seconds before he met her gaze again with the same soulful eyes. "Sam Winchester was six month old the day you died… almost 30 years ago. We now have the year 2012."

Mary shook her head. That couldn't be. That would mean that she had missed almost 30 years of a world that turned without her. 30 years of the life of John, had missed her boys grow up. She met the eyes of the young ma…of Sam. Her Sam. Her Baby. Her throat constricted suddenly and her eyes started to burn. She had seen so much in her life others would deem impossible so why was it such a hard thing to just accept what he had told her? She knew she had died and she knew that it had been of supernatural origin. "It's true, isn't it? You're really my son?"

He nodded sadly, one tear breaking loose and rolling over his cheek. That was all it took for Mary's, maybe not mother feelings – the adult she saw was too different from the baby she had known, but protective instincts to kick in. she crouched down in front of him and laid her hands on either side of his face, studying his features as if to imprint each detail. "Mom," he said brokenly and then he pulled her into a crushing hug, crying into her shoulder.

"Shh, sweetie. It's okay," Mary whispered, wiping at her own tears. "It's okay, Sammy. It's okay." And with that she returned his desperate hug.

SPNSPNSPNSPN

"Godammit to hell and back," John cursed, while another car sped by him, not even slowing to see they had seen the thump he held out to hitch a ride. John had never been a patient man and walking for hours until dusk was starting to creep over the landscape had eaten away at his nerves. Of course he had to have been resurrected in the most desolate wilderness within hundred miles. Damn Winchester luck. "Asshole!" he yelled at the disappearing vehicle, way out of earshot already. But it did help to release some of John's frustration at least.

Cursing under his breath, he continued his journey until the rumbling sound of a heavy engine made him look up. Daylight was almost gone by that point and the bright headlights approaching him from ahead made him shield his eyes with one hand, while he lifted his thump to show he wanted a ride. Didn't matter if it was the direction he had just come from. He just needed a phone or some kind of bar to hustle some money and hotwire a ride of his own. The pick up approached, making no appearance to even slowing down. In fact, it was going pretty fast John thought at the exact moment the driver of the truck started to lose control over his vehicle and swerved dangerously close to the side John walked on. The side where a steep wall of an overhanging cliff cut up all ways of escape.

"Fuck!" John yelled, while his hunter reflexes kicked in and made him jump and roll to the other side of the road, split seconds before the truck crashed into the cliff, exactly where he had stood . John was fast acting but not fast enough to evade the veering tail of the truck and the spinning hind heels, which caught him in his side, propelling him away at an incredible speed. He felt the pain in his side, then he lost all orientation until a flash of pain hit his head and all went black.

Spnspnspnspn

Sam let his head hang and gave up on the book as soon as Dean had left to help Bobby. The older hunter had called for his brother to help him clean the mess of the shattered plate and make himself useful in the kitchen instead of sitting on his lazy ass all day and drinking all his beer. Sam watched his hands and forced the slight tremble out of them. He had gotten pretty good at it too. Or maybe his brother just wasn't as perspective to his moods as he had been before the apocalypse. Before, Dean would have caught up that his brother was upset but not anymore. Just like before, he would have offered Bobby to help as well but he knew that his help would not be wanted. Bobby could hardly stand to be in the same room as him. Of course he would not openly admit it to him and he would try to not show it either but it was like the proverbial elephant in the room, whenever they were near each other. And who could blame the man, really. Sam had tried to kill him. Maybe it would be easier to get away from the older hunter for a while but that would be too much like what possessed Bobby had asked of him, one of the most hurtful moments in his life. Besides, he knew that Dean would not let him leave and he didn't want to take his brother away from his only father figure he had left. No, Sam would just have to suck it up and stay out of Bobby's way as much as possible without being too obvious. He was good at being unobtrusive and quiet if he wanted too, after all. His rebellious days were over as it was. The world was safer if he ran his opinions through Dean first, anyhow. He didn't have a good history of making good decisions. He listened to Bobby's gruff reprimands and Deans cocky replies in the kitchen for a while and gripped his pen tighter. He would make it up to them all. Be the perfect, undemanding help they could ask for and in time, Bobby would forgive him, surely.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Mary didn't know how long they stayed there on the ground but after a while the tears subsided and they just looked at each other.

"Maybe we should get off the floor," Mary said with a smirk and Sam nodded with a smile. "Good idea. It's getting kinda uncomfortable."

They both made it to one of the benches, while Sam still kept staring at her. She lifted an amused, questioning eyebrow. "What's wrong Sammy?"

"It's just…" he hesitated. "I didn't expect you to be so beautiful."

She laughed at that. "Well it's been a long time and you were still a baby. But I guess I should be more amazed than you. You've grown in a fine man. And tall too, nearly as tall as your Dad."

"Dad? What is he like?" Sam seemed suddenly exited but Mary frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean, what is he like? I should be asking you that."

Sam bit his lower lip and his excitement vanished at once. "There is something you should know about me," he began. "I didn't grow up with my real father. When I was a baby I was found at the steps of an orphanage in Dallas. Went from foster family to foster family, never knowing where I came from or even what my real name was. I went under the name of Lucas Cooper for my whole life until…"

"Until?" Mary questioned, suddenly more guarded.

"Until something happened I never thought were possible. " He hesitated and studied her as if to appraise if she could handle what he was about to tell her.

"I was just walking home from work when I saw this kid on the street. His foot was caught in a gutter cover and he tried to pull it out, while this huge truck sped his way. There was no way he could escape in time, so I jumped at him and pushed him flat to the ground, letting the truck pass above us.

"Needless to say I had the scare of my life. But it got only worse when the kid was no kid at all but an old, really small guy. And not one of those people who just don't grow right after they hit a certain age. His proportions were all right and he wore strange green clothing. He told me that he was a leprechaun, for God's sake and of course I didn't believe him. But he told me that I had one wish for saving his life." Lucas chuckled at that. "Crazy, right?"

Mary chose to not answer and waited him out. She never heard of leprechauns being real but with the life she had grown up with, it seemed a lot less fantastic then to your average Joe.

"Anyways," he continued. "He would grant me one wish, he said, as long as it didn't concern his gold. I thought he was completely bonkers, but decided to play along. I wished to know my real family. The little guy finally freed his foot stood up and stared at me in a way that gave me the creeps, until he suddenly touched my forehead, which was even more creepy but then he nodded and said that he would do better than that. He told me that my name was Samuel Winchester, that I was born in Lawrence, Kansas and that I was robbed from the nursery at my home at my sixth month birthday." He shook his head in confusion. "He babbled something about the perfect match having to be brought together and that I was in the way for that. He also told me that my mother, Mary Winchester had been killed that night by a demon no less and that he would have to bring her back, so I could meet her. He didn't seem too pleased by that and I was already getting ready to get the hell away from this crazy, telling me that but then he got really mad and bore into me, if I thought it was a joke. If I really wanted to meet my mother then I'd better accept that I am Sam Winchester and don't scare her off. I guess I was pretty intimidating and agreed to behave. He nodded and vanished into thin air and I was sitting here, besides your unconscious body. Things like this just don't happen, you know but when it did, I knew instinctively that he had been telling the truth."

Mary stared at him for a minute longer and Sam deflated instantly. "I know, you must think I'm crazy yourself."

"No, no, Sam. I believe you," Mary tried to reassure.

"You do?" he asked hopefully.

Mary nodded. "Yes. You know, I have learned very early on that there is a lot more to the things people consider legends and monsters."

Now it was on him to look skeptical. "But how?"

She sighed. "I never wanted you to find out but it can't be helped now, I guess. "Monsters are real. All those things people tell their children and there are some few people knowing about them and hunting them. My family were hunters and raised me to be one of them too."

"Wow." Sam breathed and his obvious amazement angered Mary in a way she couldn't contain.

"There is absolutely no 'wow' about it. It's a hard, impersonal and dangerous lifestyle and no child should grow up like this. That's why I left hunting behind when I married and was founding a family. Or so I thought…"

"Ookaay," Sam said. "But like you said, it's too late now. Maybe you'll tell me about it some more…"

She gifted him with a venomous stare. "When you're ready," he quickly said. "Later… much later, okay?"

Mary sighed again and rubbed her forehead in defeat. "We'll see."

"And what about now?"

"First off, we have to find a way to get a hold of your father and brother."

At that, Sam perked up. "Brother? I have a brother?"

Mary nodded and a bright smile lightened up her face. "Dean. He's four years older than you and when you were born he was the probably proudest older brother in the world."

"He was?" Sam asked almost giddily.

Mary laughed. "Oh yes. At least until you started to cry and took too much of my time in his opinion. I tried to explain to him that it was only temporary but thank God, John was really good with him and I tried to spend as much time with him as possible. His jealousy died pretty quick again. He always was very mature for his age," she sighed with a longing look.

"Then we better go and find him, right." Sam answered with a smile.

TBC

Authors note: You might have realized that I changed the title. I really don't know what title to take for this so I will let you all choose between 'No brother of mine' or 'Not Sam'. My wonderful Beta UThnkUrFunnyIThnkImAdorable prefers 'No brother of mine' and me 'Not Sam' but I like them both. I'll stick to the one which gets more votes.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to all those who reviewed and put me on alert. I didn't get to review you all in response but I'll get to that this week end. The next update will take a bit longer but I'll start working on it later tonight.

Thanks to UthnkUrFunnyIThnkImAdorable for all her work betaing this baby. All remaining mistakes are my own.

About the title: Most of you prefer 'No brother of mine', but T. has let me know that there already is a supernatural story with that title and I don't want to steal from anyone. I'll ask the author if I can use it. If not I'll stick to 'Not Sam'. Sorry about that but the title does fit with a lot of subtext later in the story.

To the anonymous reviewer: I couldn't answer you directly because I didn't have a link. Don't worry about the confusion with the name. It's going to be an important tool in the fic what they'll call old and new Sam. It's going to be good to look into the other character's emotions. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

_Previously:_

_At that, Sam perked up. "Brother? I have a brother?"_

_Mary nodded and a bright smile lightened up her face. "Dean. He's four years older than you and when you were born he was the probably proudest older brother in the world."_

_"He was?" Sam asked almost giddily._

_Mary laughed. "Oh yes. At least until you started to cry and took too much of my time in his opinion. I tried to explain to him that it was only temporary but thank God, John was really good with him and I tried to spend as much time with him as possible. His jealousy died pretty quick again. He always was very mature for his age," she sighed with a longing look._

_"Then we better go and find him, right." Sam answered with a smile._

Chapter 3

Mary was fascinated observing how Sam was typing away on the keyboard in front of him, calling up information on the screen. He had explained how computers, and something he called the 'internet', had revolutionized the way the world functioned. What she had seen so far, already made her feel like she was completely out of the loops.

Strangely, it was Sam who grounded her most. No matter that he had grown up since she had seen him some near 30 years ago, there was something so familiar about him. The dimples when he smiled, so much like John's , the freckles and curls, but most of all his profile and his gait, the way he held his head, exactly like his father's. She just felt a familiarity with him she never felt towards a stranger she hadn't known for more than a few hours.

They had settled themselves in a diner that provided an 'internet corner'. Mary was grateful that Sam had some money on him when he was transferred to where she had been brought back to life. Almost as much as she was grateful she hadn't been resurrected in the clothes she had died in. It would have been highly embarrassing otherwise. Instead she wore blue jeans and a loose sweater.

She'd have to thank the leprechaun, if ever she met him.

"Okay." There are hundreds of records of a John Winchester but I don't think any of the first couple dozen I checked are from Dad. But then again, I'm not really that good with computers… Hold on, I will put his name in combination with Dean Winchester, fire and Lawrence."

Again, there were no records found.

"I guess the fire was too early to make it to the internet," Mary mused, while scanning the articles with similar code words. "Wait a minute. What's that?" She pointed at an article.

"Winchester brothers arrested by police," Sam read out loud. "That's a bust too, except if there was a third brother you didn't tell me about."

Mary shook her head. "That's going to take hours and hours. I thought this internet was supposed to help us?"

"If I had more information than a few wildly common names, it would. It doesn't help either that I never was all that good with computers. But wait. We also have dates, right? When is Dean's birthday?"

"That won't be recorded either if the fire wasn't."

"Not his birth but the internet will search the article too for code words, so if his birth date is in it as well as his name, it should show."

"Good idea. There should be records of his graduation from college or at least high school. He was born on January 24, 1979 in Lawrence, Kansas."

Sam typed the date and hit 'search'. On the very top they saw the same page as before.

"Winchester brothers, arrested by the police. Sam and Mary exchanged a puzzled look but this time, Sam opened the file. What awaited them was internet news broadcast from some years ago.

_The __local police have managed to catch themselves a felon, wanted in several States. Dean Winchester, born January 24, 1979, son of wanted Fellow John Winchester himself, was apprehended by the police in Baltimore, Maryland. Winchester is, among other, being a__ccused for credit card fraud, breaking and entering, grave desecration, torture and murder. Dean Winchester's younger brother Sam was arrested alongside but no official charges were brought up against him._

"What the hell," Sam muttered." I'm pretty certain that I never was arrested. Came close a couple of times in my teenage years but this sure wasn't me." He glanced over at Mary who looked shocked and angry.

"Mom?"

"Hunter," she breathed.

"What?"

"Breaking and entering, even murder and above all grave desecration. It sounds like what a hunter would be accused of."

Sam frowed. "Murder and torture?"

She frowned absently but ignored Sam's question for the most part. Could it be that Dean had somehow gotten into hunting? She hoped not.

"Shit," Sam swore and suddenly became very defensive leaning away from her. "What are you so called hunters doing exactly. No wait… I'm not sure if I want to know more…"

Suddenly, Mary understood. "Oh no, Sammy. We're not some kind of vicious murderers but some of the creatures we hunt seem very human and if someone ever saw a hunter kill a werewolf…"

"Like in the movies…"

Mary nodded." In a way, yes."

"And who is that younger brother Sam then? What if…" Sam swallowed. "What if the leprechaun lied."

The heartbroken face of the young man made Mary's heart clench painfully. "He didn't," she said resolutely meeting the young man's eyes and holding them. She gripped his shoulders tightly and made him face her. "I just know it. You are Sam Winchester, my son."

"You're sure?"

She nodded and suddenly her eyes lit up. "Sam had a weird shaped birthmark on his right upper hip…."

"Looking a bit like a banana?" Sam continued hopefully.

"See?" Mary grinned in relief and received a dimpled, also relieved grin in return. But her mood sobered after a moment. "And how are we going to find Dean now? We keep on searching the internet?"

Sam kept on grinning and nodded. "_Internet,_ yes, but not _we_." He took out a small, silvery devise and typed something onto the glassy surface and held it to his ear. "I have a friend who is much better at this. He'll find out more for us."

SPNSPNSPN

Dr. Mike Jackson hated Emergencies right before his end of shift and he hated drunk drivers, causing such emergencies even more. Old Angus Tyler had been a guest in this fine establishment, namely county hospital before, because he drank himself nearly into a coma and Mike knew that he had been ordered to visit a rehab but he doubted the old coot ever followed that order. He never followed anyone's order anyway.

But now he finally did it, killed himself by the booze in the passenger seat of his driving. It might have been tragic or simply sad, since his problems had started after his return from Vietnam, but right now Mike felt only rage towards the old drunk. He hadn't just managed to kill himself, steering his truck into an overhang, no he had taken someone down with him. With a heavy sigh he looked down at their newest John Doe on the cot in the emergency cubicle. The man seemed to be in his late forties, early fifties and was tall and well built. Apart from that, nada. He hadn't had any identification on him when he was brought in. Just the clothes on his back, bruised ribs, abrasions all over his left side and a blunt head trauma, which was the cause of his deep unconsciousness. He wasn't in a coma per se, just deeply unconscious and Dr. Jackson wasn't sure if that was such a bad thing for the moment. One cracked skull and profound concussion might make it a better healing. He had a MRI ordered and would have the man closely supervised, but if things didn't turn sour, he might let the man heal on his own.

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

"Balls!" Bobby's voice drifted over to Sam who was stripping the lines from his bed, adding them to the ones from Dean's bed. "You wanna have me killed, boy, watch where you point that knife."

Sam winced at Bobby's choice of words. Sam had tried to kill the older man… more than once, even if Bobby didn't know anything about the first time and Sam had been sure that it had been the trickster then, but still, the fact that he had done it was what counted to him.

"Sorry Bobby, didn't see you there. Should have warned me."

"Yeah, sorry I moved around in _my_ _own_ fricking house unannounced, idjit." Bobby's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Sam could picture his brother shrug nonchalantly.

"Didn't know you could move around corners so fast in your old age either."

"I'll show you old, boy. I can still kick your ass into next week, if you don't watch that mouth of yours."

At any other time, the banter between his brother and Bobby would have gotten at least a smile from Sam but now it just drove home what he destroyed and couldn't have any more himself. At least with the older hunter. He tried to make himself useful and he had it to hand to Bobby, the man was trying but despite the fact that he could pull off any disguise as a hunter without a hitch, he couldn't hide his apprehension towards Sam. Again, Sam cursed what he had done without a soul. He had deeply hurt his surrogate father then, just as he had hurt his brother under the influence of demon blood, Jess by ignorance and the rest of his family by his arrogance. Sometimes Sam didn't know why he still bothered. It didn't matter what intentions he had, selfish or noble, forced or willing. It always went south somehow.

Sam hoped that they would soon find a lead for a hunt. He hoped that Bobby could better forget if Sam wasn't around all the time to remind him of his assault. Until then… he gathered the linens and picked up Bobby's on his way down the stairs.

He was only two steps down when the bell on the front door chimed. All noise in the kitchen died and Bobby stepped out, followed by Dean who threw Sam a crooked grin.

Sam took the last of the steps until he came to stand besides his brother and watched Bobby open the door.

"Can I help you?" he asked whoever stood outside the door, out of the brother's view.

"Hi, I heard that you knew someone called Dean Winchester?" a female voice asked. Sam couldn't help but think that the voice sounded familiar but he couldn't place it. He glanced over at his brother who had gone deathly pale. "Dean?" he asked concerned.

His brother ignored him but resolve made him square his jaw. He pulled his gun out of his waistband and move resolutely towards the door. He ripped it out of Bobby's hand and pushed the older hunter back with his shoulder, standing protectively between him and whoever was outside. Someone who he was now training his gun at.

Sam let the linens he still carried fall to the floor and followed his brother, drawing his own gun. He trusted Dean's assessment and if his brother recognized the voice and classified it as a threat, he would not question it. Never again. But once he had made his way over to the door, reaching a frowning Bobby's side, the arms holding the weapon suddenly went limp. On the front porch sided by a scared looking young guy stood Mary Winchester, their mother.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: ****Sorry for the delay. Live's been quite hectic for me (and still is) and then, my wonderful betareader YouthnkYourefunny couldn't continue to beta for me due to her own hectic RL and the fact that she hardly finds time to write herself, which would be a tragic shame. Check out her stories, they're wonderful. Thank you so much for the work so far, dear *bighugz* I really appreciate what you did for me.**

**So I had to find myself another Beta reader and Crazybeagle was kind enough to step in. She's doing a great job too and it's their help that makes this fic readable.**

**Now on to the story:**

Chapter 4

_**Then:**_

_Sam let the linens he still carried fall to the floor and followed his brother, drawing his own gun. He trusted Dean's assessment and if his brother recognized the voice and classified it as a threat, he would not question it. Never again. But once he had made his way over to the door, reaching a frowning Bobby's side, his arms holding the weapon suddenly went limp. On the front porch sided by a scared looking young guy stood Mary Winchester, their mother. _

**Now: **

Dean lowered his gum marginally but he caught himself fast and leveled the barrel back at the woman wearing the familiar face. She lifted her hands a bit at her sides to show that she was unharmed, but that didn't mean much for a supernatural being, which dead people suddenly turning up had the tendency to be.

"Dean?" Bobby asked, guarded.

"Dean?" the thing that looked like Mary Winchester echoed uncertaily "Dean Winchester?" She nearly whispered the name and studied his face with awed, wide eyes. "Is that really you, sweetheart?"

"Cut the crap, bitch. You have about two seconds to tell us who you are and what you want before I put a bullet through your sorry ass.

Dean's snarled response shook Sam out of his stupor and he lifted his gun again, covering the seemingly shocked and shaking stranger at her side. He didn't look like much of a menace, but better safe than sorry, right?

To his right, Bobby also pulled a sawed-off from behind the door and cocked it, also leveling it also at the she-thing.

Her eyes wandered to him and then towards Sam. When she fully registered him, her expression darkened. She didn't meet his eyes.

"Okay, time's up," Dean stated, taking aim to shoot.

Instantly her eyes darted back to him. "Please, don't shoot! I know you're a hunter and probably don't trust me but I'm Mary Winchester, your mother. A leprechaun brought me back, apparently," Mary said rapidly, her eyes darting between the barrel and Dean's face, pleading.

"A leprechaun?" Dean snorted. "Don't make me laugh. Leprechauns don't have that kind of power." He glanced at Bobby for confirmation, and Sam instinctively let his aim drift to cover both strangers. Apparently, Dean didn't like Bobby's reaction to his question. "Isn't that right, Bobby?" he repeated.

The older hunter cleared his throat loudly. "Well, since nobody ain't seen one for the last hundred years or so, before this year…"

"Shit," Dean muttered.

"And if the general and obscure lore is anywhere near correct, then they'd be certainly powerful enough…"

Sam saw the moment Dean's hatred transformed into hope. He swallowed, studying Mary's face intently. Sam bit his lower lip and blinked twice to chase away the sting in his eyes. There was no hope in his own heart but rather a deep, stinging fear. Dean would be devastated when she turned out to be false. His brother deserved her so much. But it had to be a trap. Everything he ever esteemed to be a good thing always turned out to be a manipulation, curse or something else turning sour in his grip. It was heartbreaking to discover that Dean had lost any kind of hope that something might ever turn out better than what he had now and what he did have now was all kinds of crappy in any way you put it.

"Dean, if she's right, we can't shoot her," Bobby reasoned.

Dean was clearly at a loss for what to do, hope so obvious in his stance, from the minuscule quiver in his hands, to his heavier breathing and tick of his cheek muscle. Subtle things nobody but Sam would notice. But Sam couldn't help him this time. If Dean was at a loss, Sam was even less able to process this situation. What to do? She had to be false, what else could she be, and there was absolutely no way to not hurt his brother further.

"We oughta test her," Bobby again was the voice of reason.

The woman nodded, still staring at Dean. A resolve and confidence in her eyes that reminded Sam of the Mary he had met when he had been sent back in time with his brother. "I know that this is a lot to take in, Dean," she continued, now completely calm and level-headed, giving Dean her whole attention. "I'll do any test you come up with. But I swear, I _am_ your mother. I died in Sam's nursery and woke up at the cemetery three days ago. Please. You can ask me anything you want. I used to tell you that angels would watch over you—" Bobby snorted at that –"and when you were sick I made you tomato rice soup, and for a while almost couldn't get you to wear anything else but that teddy shirt you loved so much. For your fourth birthday, your Daddy got you this toy car that looked exactly like the Impala, but it was red, so you stole the waterproof pen and re- colored it black, along with a big part of the table top. Please, honey, please believe me. I _am_ your mom."

More doubt crept into Dean's face and his weapon lowered further, yet still at ready.

Sam's fear shifted. If she really was their mom, what would be the price to pay? Nothing ever came without a price tag for them. What would it be this time?

Dean finally nodded, and Bobby put his weapon down and disappeared inside the house. He came back a moment later with a water bottle, salt and a silver knife.

She nodded and held out her hand. He handed her the bottle of water first. She unscrewed the lid and took a gulp. Nothing happened and Bobby nodded, looking towards the scrawny young man at her side who seemed to have calmed down some, his hazel eyes mostly moving from his companion to Dean, sometimes openly staring at Sam's brother. Mary handed the bottle over to him and he frowned at her offering. "Just drink a bit, I'll explain later, okay?"

He nodded but took a sip himself, after eyeing the bottle suspiciously.

Mary took the knife from Bobby and without hesitation nicked her arm. A little blood welled but she hardly grimaced before turning toward the guy at her side. "Just a little nick. Most supernatural monsters will react badly to silver," she explained and he nodded in understanding.

"And they have to make sure we're nothing like that. I get it." He did hesitate a bit, but Sam thought that it would be normal for a common non-hunter, which he clearly seemed to be. But after one deep inhalation, he dug the tip of the sharp blade into his thumb until a red drop welled up. He handed the knife back to the proudly smiling woman and wiped the blood from the digit before meeting Bobby's gaze. "And now?"

Bobby nodded and spread some salt over the threshold of the door. "There's a devil's trap and other supernatural protection under the rug. Cross that and the salt and we're in the clear." His voice was challenging. He clearly was not yet giving them the benefit of the doubt either.

The guy seemed still confused, but after Dean and Bobby cleared the path, he followed the woman into the house, not even hesitating at the salt line or the devil's trap. And at that moment, passing all the tests, the woman stopped being the _woman_, _stranger_ or _thing_ to them. She became Mary Winchester. Their mother, somehow resurrected. Bobby had sigils and runes under that rug that would keep out any evil entity, which wouldn't react to salt, silver or holy water.

Sam realized then, that it wasn't Dean who couldn't really trust. His mom was back. No ghost, past or monster wearing her face. His mom. His real mom he had never known. There was a chance to get to know her now and all he felt was a big emotional void and the expectation for the other shoe to drop. Something would go wrong again. It always had so why should this time be different.

She and Dean were now face to face, his older brother's gun hanging limply in his hand at his side. Mom's eyes were misted over and she smiled gently up at him.

"Mom," Dean finally whispered, and then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Looked like Dean believed her, so Sam figured he could do too, or at least try. He still felt like there was another shoe to drop. But maybe he was just too scarred to accept that something good might still happen to them? Maybe this was his one chance to gain his hope back that at least some things, other than Dean, might turn out okay for him again, that there was still some shred of hope for a happy life for him. Unconsciously he took one step towards his family, cautious to interrupt.

"Mom?" he asked carefully. His mother hadn't acknowledged him much until now. Okay, she hadn't known him for very long, and by the time she had died, he hadn't been old enough to really build a rapport to her but she must have at least guessed by now that he was her other son.

At his voice she stiffened and pulled back from Dean, keeping her eyes on his face for a moment longer, before she turned and stared coldly at Sam. The animosity her eyes made him recoil a step. "Mom?"

"Who are you?" she snapped.

"Mom, this is Sam, your son," Dean explained slowly, as startled by her tone as Sam, if his expression was anything to go by.

"No, he's not,", she replied coldly, gesturing to the young guy who came with her, who was now looking as if he would rather be anywhere else but here. "This is my son, Sam Winchester, so I ask you again, who are _you_?"

The void inside of Sam morphed into a knob of pain at the open rejection in her look and tone, so that her words registered with a delay. And even then he didn't know how to react. He opened and closed his mouth a couple times, but couldn't bring a word past his lips. Like always, Dean came to his rescue, elbowing past her to stand protectively in front of Sam, showing instinctively where his first priority lay. It was this automatic reaction that eased some of Sam's shock and pain.

"What are you talking about? I don't know who that guy there is," he pointed at the stranger, "but I know my brother and that isn't him."

Mary took a deep breath and visibly fought to not let her hostility be directed at Dean, but it was the stranger that interrupted anything she might have said.

"They probably don't even know, Mom." He took one step forward but Bobby held him back with one arm across his chest. He eyed the older hunter for a second before turning back to the Winchesters. "The Leprechaun said I was switched at six months old. Dean was still very small then and Sam…" he threw an apologizing look at Sam, "he was still a baby. He has been raised as Sam Winchester, so he doesn't know anything else."

Dean's eyebrow lifted in surprised disbelief at that but Mary dismissed the excuses with a shake of her head. "Doesn't matter to me. He's an imposter and as far as I'm concerned he could be some evil demon spawn or the antichrist, biding his time before he attacks."

Sam felt ill. The way she talked about him. Her open dislike… and if she knew about what he had done and had been chosen to further do… She wasn't far off. And what if it was true? If he really had been switched that night? No it couldn't be. Fate could not take that from him too. Not that.

"That's the biggest bull I've ever heard, but I'd like to know how come you think you're my real brother. Care to explain?" Dean addressed the young guy venomously.

"Dean!" Mary admonished. "He's your brother. I'm sure."

"Don't think he was talkin' to you, lady," Bobby glowered at her, looking expectantly towards the young man at his side. Dean crossed his arms in front of his chest, mirroring his look. Sam was stunned that Dean didn't say a word about Bobby's harsh treatment of Mary, but it eased the pain and shock a bit more. "Maybe we should move this somewhere else and listen to his story before we…" he shrugged, not knowing what they'll do afterwards. The thought that he was not really Dean's brother was too much to bear thinking about. He just hoped that all would clear up to be a big misunderstanding in the end.

Dean nodded and turned towards Bobby's study, clasping Sam's arm in reassurance as he passed him and whispered a soft, "Cas would have said something if you weren't my real brother."

Sam smiled his first genuine smile in what felt like a felt decade. Dean was right. Cas would know if they were not related and he would have told them. No, apart from the fact that he had referred to them as brothers several times himself, the destiny asked for two brothers to vessel Lucifer and Michael.

Mood already lifted, Sam followed his brother. They settled on the edge of Bobby's desk, while Mary and the imposter took a seat on the worn sofa. Bobby settled in his old armchair, leaning his shotgun against the upholstery on the ground. Not holding it anymore, but keeping it close enough to react fast if needed.

"Shoot,", Dean glared at the guy, his body language tense and unfriendly.

The guy cleared his throat and looked so nervously from one another that Sam almost felt sorry for him. He didn't look like a threat at all, rather like a student called before the principal for chastisement. The guy cleared his throat again before he began his tale.

"When I was approximately six month old, I was found in a children's home." I was raised in the foster system, never knowing where I came from…" His eyes had a sad, wistful look on them, when he recalled a certainly less than loving childhood but he shook himself out of it quickly and sought the eyes of Mary who smiled at him encouraging, squeezing his hand. He returned the smile and squeeze and Sam fought the flush of hurt and anger at seeing this. But before those irrational of worry for his mom and jealousy could take hold the imposter continued, "About a week ago I saved the life of what I learned to be a leprechaun, and he told me that he would make me meet my family. He transported me to Kansas where I met my mother, who he resuscitated, since she died the night I was placed at the children's home."

Dean barked a humorless laugh. "And you just take his word for it? Newsflash, mister, I know for sure that this,", he indicated Sam, "is my brother."

False-Sam lowered his eyes uncomfortably. "I only know what he told me. He said that the perfect match had to be brought together. I have no idea what he meant by that."

A cold shiver worked its way down Sam's spine and Dean met his eyes for a split second, an apprehension in them Sam was sure, were mirrored in his own.

"Sam had a birthmark," Mary fell into the conversation, looking daringly at Sam.

Sam swallowed. "Where?"

"On his upper right hip. It's not very dark or big but it has a distinguishable form."

Sam had some not-so-subtle birthmarks on his body, and even face, but not on his hip. No, no, no it wasn't possible. But then again; couldn't birthmarks disappear with age, after all? He though he had read something like this one time.

"Well?"

"Sam has no birthmark on his hip," Dean provided, suddenly more guarded towards the woman in the room, "but that doesn't prove anything. Sam never had a birthmark on his hip and Dad would have grown suspicious if it had suddenly disappeared after the fire. He would have noticed the absence when he changed or bathed Sammy afterwards. "

Mary shook her head. "John wasn't feeling confident enough to handle a baby, like most men aren't. He was all for playing with Sam, but spent most of his time with you, once you weren't an infant anymore, which is what he planned to do with Sam. He always worried that he'd hurt the baby so he almost never changed him and only helped with the bath times He could have not noticed. Baby Sam did have that birthmark and adult Sam has it too." She smiled at the guy reassuringly.

Sam was long past the point of answering. He had never felt so lost in his life, and that was saying something, given his long history—a hell of a lot longer than most guys—of feeling lost and unsure."

Dean rubbed his hands down his face and huffed out a heavy breath.

"Dean, maybe…" Bobby begun, but Dean threw him a glare.

"No, Bobby."

"There were a lot of 'special kids' who could have been made a vessel if they had won the competition, and they weren't your brother…"

"I said no," Dean spat. "There is no telling if they would have become the vessel or just been made general. Azazel never said anything about a vessel. It wasn't HIS game."

"Vessel? What are you talking about, honey? Mary interrupted, but Bobby and Dean ignored her.

"I hate this as much as you, boy, but there is a small possibility…"

"No," Dean responded in a no-nonsense tone, and Sam was pathetically thankful to him for his unwavering belief in their brotherhood, but a small bit of fear and doubt had crept back into Sam's heart at Bobby's words.

Dean threw up his arms and huffed another breath. "You know what? We'll clear this mess up once and for all. CAS! Get your winged ass here as soon as possible. We really need you… please," he added in an almost sheepish afterthought. Were the situation not so serious, Sam might have found it funny. Cas had chewed them out on one of his last visits that he had his own problems in heaven and that they couldn't expect him to come every time they felt like calling him. Especially since they admittedly rarely thanked him.

"Who is Cass?" Mary asked.

"An angel,"Bobby supplied while Dean started to fidget nervously when the angel didn't show.

"C'mon, Cas, we really need you this time. Don't be an ass,", he muttered.

Mary gasped. "An angel?" she breathed." They really exist?"

Bobby nodded.

"And you're in contact with one?"

"You can cut the revered tone and starry eyes, lady. They're nothing like general lore makes you think. Most of them are nothing more than dicks with wings."

"You know, Dean. I really don't have time to come for any minor problem you may have."

Mary yelped and jumped into a defensive stance, facing the guy who suddenly stood only one foot behind the sofa she was sitting on.

"Who..."

"Mom, meet Castiel, angel of the lord", Dean deadpanned. "Cas, it's really important this time."

Cas nodded and moved passed the sofa and Mary with Fake-Sam. Mary didn't leave him out of her eyes and Fake-Sam stared at him with wide eyes. "This is an angel? He looks just like a dude. A boring one at that."

"Sam!" Mary warned. She was a hunter and would know that it wasn't wise to insult a supposedly powerful supernatural being.

Cas tilted his head slightly to the side. His eyes wandered from Mary to Fake-Sam and there seemed to be a slight notion of confusion at her calling him by this name before he held his, once again, impassive glance at the younger didn't seem to take offence in the jibe. Sam doubted that he even recognized it as such.

"And he wears a trench coat." Fake Sam was openly fascinated now.

"That is correct," Cas answered.

"Angels wear trench coats?"

"My vessel does."

"Vessel?"

"You mean you're possessing some poor sod?" Mary was indignant.

"Angels can only possess their vessels with their permission. Some time ago, I was sent to earth to contact Sam and Dean, but most humans are not able to see and hear our true forms and to lay eyes on us would burn out their eyes," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Literally,", Bobby muttered.

"Can we have this conversation later?" Dean interrupted. "Cas, Sam is my brother, right?"

Cass seemed puzzled at that. "Of course he is."

"And you're absolutely sure, right?"

"You and Sam are more than brothers, Dean. Your destinies have been intertwined since before your birth."

Sam exhaled all the fear of the last half hour, feeling the weight lift of his chest, and exchanged a relieved look with his brother.

"Why are you asking me this, Dean? I thought this was important?"

"It is, Cas. This guy over there claims to be the real Sam Winchester. Switched on the night of Azazel's attack. I knew it, though, that he was talking shit. I know my brother." Dean glared at the other guy.

Castiel frowned at that, and before anyone could react he was in front of Fake-Sam, laying his hand upon his chest.

"What are you doing?" Mary shouted, and moved to his side, only to be stopped by an invisible barrier surrounding the two males. Cas' frown deepened as he stared at his hand on the guys chest. Fake Sam was too petrified to move, and a soft glow shone from under Cas' hand, illuminating the fabric of the shirt he touched in between his fingers.

After a few seconds Cas removed his hand and took two steps back. Instantly Mary was at fake Sam's side, checking him over visually. "I'm okay," he assured her.

Sam didn't like the somber look on the angel, who finally met his eyes and moved towards him, laying his hands on his chest. The soft glow appeared just like with fake Sam. There was a slight tingling but no pain. When Cas took his hand away he didn't say anything but moved to Dean to repeat the action. The brothers exchanged a look but didn't interrupt the angel. He would explain soon enough.

After Cas finished with Dean he took a step back, and seemed deep in thought. "Finished groping me, man? Geez, I knew that women can't keep their hands of me, but I wouldn't have figured you for that kind of guy, dude."

Dean's attempt at humor fell flat for Sam could hear the trepidation in his voice clearly.

"I wouldn't have figured…" Cas began.

"What the hell, Cas."

"Dean," Cas answered and seemed strangely apologetic about it. "All the angels are brothers, even though we are not blood related, since we are not created the way humans are. God is our Father, our Creator, and that makes us siblings. God also created the humans, so the way that the heavenly host understands it, you are all brothers and sisters too. Humans are very short-lived, and angels do understand close bonds, but most wouldn't care about what you call blood relations further than some blood lines that are tied together a heavenly way. In that sense, you and Sam are real brothers."

"And in the human, genetic, blood related sense?" Sam asked, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice. But he knew the answer before Cas gave it.

The angel laid sorrowful eyes on him. "I'm sorry Sam. Both your bloodlines are closely tied together and have been crossing over and over again, starting with Cain and Abel, but you're not closely blood related to Dean. This other human there is, though."

T.B.C.

It would be great if you'd find a couple of minutes to leave a comment. I will return the favor and review your story too, if you have written something.

*cheers*


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